


Hold Me down

by Zombiecazz



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Anal Play, Dom Bellamy, F/M, Prompt Fic, Stressed Out, Sub Clarke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 12:14:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5869099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zombiecazz/pseuds/Zombiecazz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompted by Shannon<br/>"I love your fics! You should do anal for bellarke, those are always so hot!"<br/>"How about Clarke is super stressed out from everyone relying on her and all the responsibilities on her back, and Bell suggests doing anal so that she can loose control for a little bit and he can take over?"<br/>"Also some dirty talk with that would be awesome!"</p><p>So Shannon I really hope you enjoy it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bellamy Has an Idea

She trips over her own feet in her haste to get beyond the door of the hospital section of the Ark. Rubbing at her face, she freezes at the sight of the blood smeared across her fingers. She chokes back a sob and dashes over to the sinks. They don't have running water yet, but they do have buckets of river water. Frantically scrubbing her hands, she can feel them starting to burn, her breath hitches repeatedly to stop the onslaught of tears and sobs.

They lost another one of their people today- it has become a regular occurrence. Clarke had grown somewhat immune to the ravages of war with its high body count and no clear winners. Unfortunately, life on Earth during these peaceful times is no walk in the park either. Losing people to senseless small injuries or viruses is beyond anyone’s control – it is _beyond Clarke's control_ and it is beginning to tear her apart.

Brushing away the tears, she hurries out of the door, not taking note of her surroundings, as she escapes to her room.

Bellamy watches Clarke from just outside the hospital. He had come to see if she was ready to grab some lunch. Recently he has noticed changes within her that have unsettled him, so he is trying to be around more for her. She is starting to look haggard, as though she has not been sleeping. She has noticeably lost weight- well, he noticed it, but then again, he did spend a lot of his time watching Clarke. She has also gotten really quiet- she's laughing less, smiling less and he can't remember the last time she initiated a conversation.

He let her rush by, she looked so lost and did not see him standing there waiting for her- It didn't look like she was seeing anything in her haste to escape. He needs to do something, he needs to find out what is going on with Clarke and help her fix it. Life does not work for him in any good way without Clarke having his back and him having hers.

He heads for the canteen to grab them both some lunch and then it will be time to deal with whatever crisis Clarke is going through.

xXx

 

Clarke crashes through her door into her small cabin. A single room within the Ark had been assigned to her - it isn't much but it is hers. She usually feels at peace within these four walls. It is full of her things - things that she had gathered in her three-month walkabout. Her art supplies that she hoarded and her paintings and drawings that she uses to keep her sane. None of that is giving her any relief now. Her skin is crawling, as though a million tiny ants were running up and down her arms and spine. Her heart is racing and her breath stuttering. She sits heavily down on the side of her bed and drops her head between her knees- doing her best to calm her breathing.

There is a loud knock at her door. "Clarke. I got us some lunch."

She doesn't immediately answer - she's not sure that she can. It's taking all of her concentration just to keep her breathing slow and not give into the panic that is threatening to take over.

She hears the door opening, but can't look up.

Bellamy walks in without her answering him – patience is not one of Bellamy’s traits, so he never waits for an invitation. She would laugh, but she doesn’t – too afraid that it would quickly turn into sobs.

She concentrates on her breathing and the sounds within the room. He doesn't speak at first, but she hears his feet moving into the room and the sound of metal scraping across the table. Moments later, she feels his hands on her shoulders and she can see his feet and then his knees appearing in front of her feet.

"Clarke," he says, rubbing his hands up and down her back, "tell me what’s wrong with you?"

She chokes back a sob at the concern in his voice. She shakes her head. She wants to tell him. Bellamy above anyone else would understand how she's feeling, but she just can't at the moment. If she speaks, she will cry, if she cries she might not stop - _ever_.

Bellamy doesn't interpret this as a brush off, but continues to asking questions that she can answer without words.

"Do you want me to leave you alone?" She shakes her head, still looking intently on the ground between her feet.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She nods her head slowly. This gives him pause and there’s a few moments of  silence before he speaks again.

"Are you unable to talk about it at the moment?" She nods again- it almost makes her happy that he knows her so well.

"Do you want to try getting some sleep and we'll talk later?" She nods again in relief. Once she is calm, she is sureshe'll be able to talk.

The relief is short lived as he gets up from his knees. Her hand is out grabbing at his jacket before she can stop herself.

"Hey, hey- " he says, wrapping his hands around her head and kissing her crown. "I'm only going to make sure no one disturbs us. Then I'll be right back."

She sinks back over her knees and waits for him to return.

She is lost in a hazy cloud of exhaustion when the shuffle of his boots through her door brings her back to consciousness.  He’s kneeling before her again, undoing her laces and removing her boots and socks. He toes off his boots and she can hear the sounds of clothes being tossed onto the chair beside the bed. 

"Come on Clarke. I know you're not catatonic, so lose the jeans."

She stands, fumbles with her button and zip before managing to push her jeans down her legs. She shuffles over to the chair and tosses them on top of his pile of clothes. She is not ready to look at him, she knows that the concern and affection in his eyes would just undo her. He seems to understand and just grasps her hand and pulls her back to the bed. She watches as he pulls the covers back and gets in. He shuffles to the back and holds the covers up for her. Lying down beside him, with her back to him, so grateful for his understanding, she pulls his arm around her giving his hand a squeeze to try and relay her thanks.

He pulls her against his warm chest. "Sleep now. We'll talk later," he says with a kiss against her temple. For the first time in what seems like forever, she feels safe, warm and calm. She sinks into Bellamy's warmth and allows herself to do as she's told. It takes only moments for her to let the world slip away. 

 

xXx

 

Late in the night, when Clarke finally wakes up, there is still a warm solid body wrapped around hers and she finds that her heart is finally beating normally again. She stretches out her legs and her arms - the ants are gone too.

Maybe it is time to talk.

She slowly turns in Bellamy's arms and isn't too surprised to find him looking down at her with his dark familiar eyes. He doesn't speak, but just calmly watches and waits- it's her turn to do the talking.

"I don't know what's wrong," she begins hesitantly. "I can't eat, it makes me feel sick. I can't sleep. My brain seems to be on all the time.

"What happened today?” He asks.

She remembers back to earlier, the ant crawling, the hand scrubbing. "We lost another patient. An internal bleed that we hadn't noticed straight away. We did find it, but it was too late. Well, it was too late down here- Not enough anaesthetic, no spare blood. They'd have probably made it on the Ark."

"Was it someone we know?" he asks, concern bleeding into his calm voice.

"No, not one of ours.” Both knowing that “ _Ours”_ means the original 100. 

"Do you always feel like this when someone dies?"

She stares at him, puzzled - What is he trying to do?

He understands her look without her saying anything. "This isn’t like you. You’re always so in control. We need to figure out what’s changed.  And I want to help.”

She nods. It is a good plan and anyway, her coping mechanisms have not been working, that's for sure.

"Okay, so no. Usually I can clinically understand what has happened, what has gone wrong. I would work towards stopping this from occurring again."

"So what is stopping you?"

"I don't know.” She pauses and tries to turn into words how she is feeling. “It feels like I can't control it. That nothing I do will stop it from happening again. Every case that comes into the clinic is a potential death sentence. Even something as stupid as standing on a nail. We don't have enough drugs and supplies, not even the basics and it's _killing our people_. And I can't shut it out. Every weeping sore, every insect sting, every _freaking cold_ has my insides churning." She sobs, her breath hiccuping again- the ants are back. She grasps tightly onto his arms trying to bring back the calm.

He pulls her against his chest, tightly grabbing her hair and tugging painfully so that she can't do anything other than stare into his eyes. The painful tug focuses her on him - the tight pull on her hair, the warm clasp of his hand on her back, his hard chest against her breasts, his leg between her thighs. 

"Breathe, Clarke," he demands. She draws in a big breath and slowly lets it out. "That's it. Just breathe, slowly in and slowly out." He breathes in sync with her, allowing her to follow his rhythm.

The panic finally starts to recede.

"You're stressed out. I think that it's all become too much and you _have_ to know how to let it go." Her breathing has calmed, so he gently places her head against his chest and continues talking into her hair. "You've reached a breaking point and each new patient just pushes you closer and closer to the edge. You need to learn that there are some things the mighty Clarke doesn't have control over." She huffs against his shirt, she can hear the smirk in his voice.

"I know. I find it hard to believe too." He chuckles into her hair. "I think you need to learn to lose control. To let it all go and allow someone else to look after you."

"I'm not sure a back rub is going to fix this," she whispers into his chest.

"Yeah I think you're right,” he replies and presses a kiss to the top of her head.  “Clarke, look at me." She pulls back to look up at him. "Do you trust me?" He is so serious and concerned.

"Yes." As if the answer could be anything else.

"Okay good. I think I have a plan. It's a bit extreme, but I think if you let me take control, it will allow you to completely de-stress and if-if-" she watches as the blush starts to spread up his neck and across his cheeks and she's intrigued, "you’re, uh, comfortable with it, it will feel fantastic, too." By the time he is finished talking, his ears are bright red. 

"Okay. Tell me more." She is very interested, but she is not sure exactly what he is getting at, but if it can get confident, experienced Bellamy to blush, then Clarke is all in. She can already feel the tingling of arousal between her legs, unconsciously grinding against his leg that’s between her thighs.

 

xXx

 

It takes Bellamy a couple of days to get everything arranged. He wants them both to have some time off, some time that he can devote to Clarke exclusively. He even talked Lincoln into allowing them to use his cave.

It is just after lunch when he turns up at the hospital to collect Clarke. She has been on tender hooks all day, knowing that they were leaving today, but not knowing anything about the exact details of his plan. He has kept much of it to himself, which had at first frustrated her (she's so used to control), but he'd not let her stew about it. Each day he touched her more - hand on her back when they talked, fingers touching when passing plates and food, lips grazing ears when he whispered some of his plans for her.  His whispers were teasing, nothing succinct. Just whispers of how he is looking forward to getting her on her knees. How he loves watching her ass as she walks away. How she is going to feel so good and tight around him. 

She's already a lot less stressed than she had been - she is not healed, but at night she has been allowing herself to leave her work in the hospital, not to forget, but to put it to the back of her mind. It is easier to achieve when she conjures up his touches and his voice teasing her.

When he finally arrives at the hospital with a couple of packs and some weapons, it is all she can do not to skip out the door.

"Clarke!" She stops and turns to look at her mum. "Two days. Radio if you need us."

Her mum had been reluctant to allow them to leave camp without supervision but Bellamy had persuaded her. Clarke has not asked what he had said, but her mum had reduced her hours in the hospital and had agreed to the time away. She is relieved enough that she did not question either of them.

 

xXx

 

It took a good couple of hours hiking to arrive at the cave. Bellamy [had] been there the previous day and dropped off supplies, gathered firewood and cleaned out the cave.

"Is this Lincoln’s cave?" she asks when they finally arrive. 

"Yes and now it's our escape for the next two days." He says with a smile- A smile that lights up his eyes. He lights the torch just inside the entrance to the cave and grabs her hand as he walks backwards, leading her inside.

It doesn't take long to unpack and get the cave warmed up. They eat and chat about nothing. Soon Clarke can barely keep her eyes open. The weeks of little sleep and poor appetite have crept up on her, so now she is relaxed and all she wants is sleep.

"Come on Princess, time to sleep." She whimpers in protest, mumbling about plans, which has Bellamy chuckling into her neck as he carries her over to the wide makeshift bed.

She tries to help with her clothes, but he just bats her hands away. "What did I tell you?" he asks, pulling off her boots and socks. 

Her mind is fuzzy, but she remembers one thing that he's been repeating over the past couple of days. "I need to let it all go," she mumbles.

"That's right. You need to let it all go and let me take care of you and that includes removing your clothes. So hands off, you're all mine," he tells her, learning over her and sucking gently on her bottom lip. 

Her mouth opens with a low groan - I could really get used to this, she thinks. Her hands slide up round his neck and she pulls him down into a deeper kiss, lips sucking lips, tongues dancing around each other. If she wasn't so tired she'd be demanding more from him.

He pulls back, kissing her nose. "Not tonight. Tonight we sleep," he tells her, pulling off her jeans and then undressing himself. "Tomorrow we explore and tomorrow night you'll be a good girl and do everything I say." They lie pressed tightly together, her back to his front, in the surprisingly comfortable bed on the floor.

"Yes, sir," she mumbles as sleep pulls her under.

 

xXx

 

They have the best day. It is just the two of them in the forest. They gather herbs, they hunt lunch, Clarke does some sketching in the small sketchbook that Bellamy had bashfully presented her with this morning. 

They are together all day, completely in sync. They talk about family, about life on the Ark. They avoid the bad memories and just discuss the happy and funny times. Throughout the day though, there is this underlying tension. Not one that has Clarke on edge or feeling panicked, but one that has her feeling flushed and tingling. More than once, during the day, she has caught him staring at her with a smirk on his face- his eyes dark and hooded. It sparks an immediate response from her body- heat flushing up her chest and neck, nipples pebbling and saliva pooling in her mouth. Each time, she has to swallow which seems to break the spell and they move on as though nothing has happened.

By the time they make it back to the cave in the late afternoon, it has started to get dark and Clarke can't think of anything other than Bellamy-his lips, his smirk, his unruly hair, his golden toned stomach and even how big his hands are. She is _so_ ready for whatever he has planned that she doesn't want food- _she just wants him_. 

As though he can sense it, Bellamy takes control as soon as they enter the cave. "Princess, I think we need to start your training now." She's bouncing on the balls of her feet, rubbing her hands together at this announcement. "There are three rules for tonight." He watches her, waiting for her agreement. She nods. "Rule one- You will do everything I say without question." Clarke can already feel the heat pooling low in her belly, she is not sure if she has ever been this turned on.

"Rule two- You will only speak if asked a direct question and rule three- you need a safe word." She raises her eyebrow, staring at him- she trusts him. Why would she need a safe word? "Trust me, Princess. Tonight I'm going to push you, I'm going to take you out of your comfort zone and I need to know that you're okay with it. So pick a word that you'll remember and if you say it I'll know you want me to stop."

"Rome!" she blurts out. "Yep, Rome, that's my word," she says with a grin.

He smiles back at her. "Now go and sit and relax for a few, while I get a fire on. We begin as soon as you've sat down." She turns and walks toward the bed- the only real seating in the cave. "And Clarke..." He pauses until she turns back to him. "I forgot rule four. Do you know what rule four is?" She presumes she's allowed to speak, since he asked a question. "No, sir." 

"Well, my Princess, rule four is...” He saunters over to her and brings her head up for a brief kiss, while brushing her hair behind her ear. Ghosting his lips over her uncovered ear, he rasps in a low voice, "If you disobey rules one or two, _you will get punished_." 

Clarke is glued the spot where he left her, every inch of her body is on fire and she is about to combust. Bellamy though, is busy whistling a nondescript tune and lighting a fire. She doesn't think she'll need the heat if the rest of tonight is as sinfully hot as the past five minutes were.


	2. Count Out Your Punishment

                                                                                                                         
She watches him from the bed while waiting for instructions, the heat from the fire surrounding her. 

"Stand up," he commands her from his kneeling position beside the fire. Clarke is quick to obey.

She stands up, her body taut- All the waiting had not diminished her arousal, but had proved to emphasise it. Watching his muscles move under his shirt and the strength of his thighs, as he crouched over the fire has enthralled her. She is impatient for what happens next.

 Bellamy watches her from beside the fire. "Take your clothes off, but leave on your underwear." He commands.

Her hands move shakily to the button of her jeans. "Clarke, look at me while you're doing it." Her head immediately comes up and focuses on his face. Holding his eyes seems to make the simple act of disrobing into something much more intimate and heat bursts across her cheeks. She removes her shirt last, leaving her in worn Ark underwear. 

"You're exquisite. I can't wait to touch you." He growls as he walks towards her, his hooded eyes maintaining contact with hers the whole way. He stops mere inches from her. "Now remove your bra." Reaching up, she slips each strap over her shoulder and then over her arm, before stretching round to unhook the clasp. His hands come up and capture each bra cup to pull it away from her body. His eyes leave her face and travel down to feast on her uncovered breasts. 

His riveted gaze is soon joined by the touch of his hands- Each hand cupping the weight of a breast, each calloused thumb flicking over her pebbled nipples and she can't suppress a moan. The ridges on his thumbs cause sparks of desire to rush up her belly with each flick.

"Turn around," he demands, his hands falling away from her breasts. She wants to protest the loss of his touch, but stops herself. Choosing instead to obey, she turns and faces the cave wall, head up and arms at her sides. His warm chest presses into her back. He lifts her hair away from her neck, allowing him access to her pulse point.  His warm mouth descends, sucking on the rapid beat of her pulse. Her whole body shivers at the unexpected delicious contact. 

"Close your eyes," he murmurs into her ear and her eyes drift shut. He drags something soft and silky up along her belly and over her nipple. The silky fabric ghosts her lips before it flutters over her eyes. He pulls it tight over her eyes and ties it behind her head.

"Turn around." She does, it's disorientating not having her sight. His hands clasp her arms, stopping her from spinning further. "Open your eyes. Can you see me?" It takes her a moment to realise that it is a question. She opens her eyes and all she can see is a faint glow coming in the bottom of the blindfold. "No sir," she rasps, her mouth dry from lack of speaking.

"Hold out your hands." Her hands come up and brush against his front- She had no idea of how close he was from behind the blindfold. It feels so good just to let go and do as Bellamy tells her. Everything has fallen away, as though nothing exists outside the walls of the warm cave. His warm hand clamps her wrists together and she feels more soft fabric wrapping around them. She can't help the tiny smirk that appears on her face. She's blind and tied up- She loves it.

He drops her tied wrists and steps back. Clarke feels unbalanced, almost like she’s swaying. Her balance has never been wonderful, but in the dark and without being able to hold her arms out or hold onto something she thinks she might fall. It’s almost a relief when she feels his hands at her hips- it steadies her. His fingers tighten around the elastic of her underwear, as he begins to slowly pull them down her thighs.

Her tied hands come out to find him. She expected to find his waist and is surprised when her hands encounter soft curls. She cards her fingers through them, as she imagines him kneeling fully clothed before her, his tanned, big hands slowly pulling down her faded black underwear, to reveal glistening blonde curls between her thighs. Her hips involuntarily thrust forward, as if seeking out his touch. She hears an amused huff from Bellamy- He must have noticed the thrust. An embarrassed flush spreads up her body, her hands fall from his head. Letting them drop in front of her, she tries to cover herself.

Her hands are quickly clasped in his- he pulls them forward, bringing them up so she can palm his warm cheek. She feels the pressure of his lips as he presses a kiss to each palm. “Don’t be shy with me. You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen and I’m the luckiest guy on this planet to be kneeling at your feet.” She blows out a breath and relaxes her shoulders. Rolling her eyes, behind her blindfold, at his flattery- He certainly knows what to say. This is how he inspires their people.

"Sit down." She's a little confused at first-  _how do you sit without using your hands?_ "Just let yourself go, I'll guide you down." She allows her knees to soften as he holds her forearms and lowers her onto the bed.

"Move to the back of the bed and wait for me." She shuffles back, stopping when her ass feels the edge of the bed and waits. She can hear movement- the undoing of jeans, hands moving over clothes, the thunk of his boots. The bed rustles as he joins her. "Put your hands above your head." Complying causes her breasts to thrust towards him. She feels vulnerable and exposed - it quickens her breathing further, she’s almost panting. Her skin tingles with excitement.

He touches her with just his finger-tips, not with any other part of his body. The tips of his fingers run from her sensitive neck, across her breasts and down her belly, over hips and down her thighs. Then back up and then, just as tortuously slow, they run back down the other side of her body from neck to thigh. 

She wants to ask him for more- for harder, for sharper. She bites on her lip to stop the demands from escaping. She shudders in delight as the soft touches change to the scratch of blunt nails, sometimes gentle and sometimes digging in- brief bites of sharp pain across the flesh of her breasts, belly and thighs. It's delicious and just the right side of sore to have her hips looking for some friction. The heat pooling between her thighs is giving way to dripping wetness.

He rolls her onto her front and straddles her. She can feel his hot straining cock against the cheeks of her ass. She flexes her ass cheeks against him, making his cock bob and smack against her ass. Bellamy chuckles behind her. "Patience Princess." 

His finger-tips move over her back, light feathery touches mixed in with sharp digging nails. If she thought her front was sensitive, her back is ten times more so. She undulates under him, open mouthed moans muffled by the bed- hips rising and falling in rhythm. She is open and swollen, so ready for him.

"You look so hot from here. The shape of your back and the curve of your ass, _fuck_! So perfect," he groans behind her. She doesn't resist as he pulls her hips up, making her rise to her knees, chest pressed onto the bed. 

She grunts in surprise when his hot, wet tongue swipes across her clit, circling and flicking before licking through her folds and into her throbbing pussy. His fingers begin rubbing circles round her clit as he tongue fucks her dripping core. She's panting in need- she wants to beg him to fuck her, to thrust his big hard cock into her. She starts to speak, (happy to take her punishment) but the need to comply is strong. Instead she digs her teeth into her wrist to stop the words and focuses on clenching her inner muscles around his invading tongue.

His fingers and tongue keep up their gentle rhythm. She’s wet, swollen and sparks are running up her spine, but not enough to put her over the edge - almost like he's delaying her release. She whines in protest when he stops- his hands moving away from her clit to slide across her folds and up to knead her ass. His mouth and tongue make their way from her pussy to her tight puckered hole. 

She squeaks in surprise as she feels his tongue begin to lave her ass. She’s never had her ass played with. Up until now, in this cave, her sexual experience has been very vanilla. This whole evening, though, has not been vanilla, it has felt very liberating and naughty and what she is sure is going to happen soon will be the cherry on a deliciously naughty cake. She bites her lip to suppress the giggle that comes with thinking about _cherries._

A sharp slap on her ass cheek grabs her attention immediately.

“I don’t think I have your undivided attention, Clarke,” Bellamy says from behind her. – _How did he know?_ She thinks. She feels like a bad a girl for letting her mind wander.

“Do you want to know what I’m going to do to you next?” He grunts.

He slaps her other ass cheek, making her squeal. “I asked you a question. You remember the rules, don’t you, Princess?”

“Ye-yes," she manages to stutter.

“You’ve been a bad girl.” His low voice has her heart fluttering in excitement. “You let your mind wander- that’s not allowed. Tonight you’re all mine, every part of you is _mine_. That means both your body and your mind.” He’s rubbing soothing circles over her reddened ass as he reprimands her.   “And then you didn’t answer a direct question. I think you need to be reminded what happens to _bad girls_!”

She’s quaking in anticipation by the time he’s finished – her nipples rock hard, rubbing painfully against the bed.

“I think 10 smacks should remind you how to be a good girl. I want you to count each one for me.”

Clarke stiffens in anticipation of the first hard slap. _Smack._ The first open-handed slap hits her right ass cheek. “One,” she says. The sharp stings radiate along the imprints of his fingers.

 _Smack._ “Two," she gasps as the slap on her left ass cheek begins to sting.

 _Smack. “_ Three,” she groans, the slaps are beginning to make her ass throb and her clit pulse in delight.

 _Smack. “_ Four.”

“Do you want to know what I’m going to do to you after your gorgeous ass is all red and hot?” He growls between slaps.

“Yes, sir," she moans finding it too hard to concentrate on any other than the pain and pleasure coursing through her.

He pauses between slaps to caress her ass. “I’m going to use my tongue and fingers to loosen up that tight little hole of yours.” Her breath hitches at the image he’s conveying with his words.

 _Smack._ “Five.” _Smack._ “Six.”

“When you’re relaxed and panting in need I’m going to fill you up with a special toy, one that I’ve been saving just for you.” He leans down and runs his wet tongue up the crack of her ass, stopping to swirl his tongue around her virgin hole.

 _Smack._ “Seven.” _Smack._ “Eight”

“You’re going to feel fuller than you have ever felt. You’re going to feel that there is no more room left for me. And then I’m going to prove you wrong.”

 _Smack._ “Nine.” _Smack._ “Ten.” She barely manages to count out the last two smacks, she feels overloaded with sensation. Her ass is on fire, her pussy is throbbing and clenching, her nipples are rock hard and her brain full of Bellamy’s low seductive voice filling her with images of him towering above her- chiselled and tanned like a conquering god.

He presses his hard length against her burning ass and kisses his way up her back, pulling her hair away from the side of her neck, his mouth ghosts up to her ear. “I’m going to roll you over and slide my throbbing hard cock into your dripping wet pussy. I’m going to show you just how much you can take and what being full really means.”

He sits back and she can hear a rustle from beside them. She yelps when something viscous and cold drizzles down her ass crack. His fingers massage the fluid into her- she does her best to relax as he increases the pressure. A loud groan escapes from her lips, as his finger slowly slides into her ass.

Her breath hitches and she stops breathing for a few seconds. He pauses, letting his finger fill her, but he keeps his finger still.

“Clarke. Tell me if you’re okay,” he whispers from behind her- concern seeping into his voice.

“Yes,” she says automatically, slightly puzzled by his change of tone. She really doesn’t want this to stop. She is so fucking lost in these glorious sensations he’s giving her that she never wants to stop. “Please don’t stop,” she begs

His finger begins to move, spreading and stretching her, coating her- making his finger slide in and out easier.

His first finger is joined by a second, pulling more slippery moisture into her, filling her up and creating new sparks of pleasure.

His fingers slide in and out, her muscles clench and throb around them. She can feel her ass opening up, inviting him in desperate for the pressure and slide of his fingers over nerve endings.

“Do you want more? Do you want to be filled up?” He pants, as though he’s out of breathe, as though he’s losing control.

“Yes, sir. Please fill me up,” she groans

His fingers pull out of her ass and are quickly replaced by something cold hard and smooth. Initially, all she feels is the coldness, but soon she feels the pressure on her muscle to open up, to give way to the invader. She pants- willing her body to stay relaxed. She pushes out to help the smooth, hard toy as it relentlessly slides past her tightness. She cries out in relief as it finally pops in and her muscle closes around the slim end.

“How does it feel? Tell me," he groans from behind her, his hands kneading and caressing her ass.

“Invaded- so full. It feels huge,” She practically cries out.

“Clench around it. Feel all of it inside you," he demands. She tightens her walls, grasping at it, making it bob. Her pussy walls clench and throb.

“Roll over.” She does, legs spread, tied hands above her head.

“You are unbelievably beautiful like this, Clarke,” he says as he runs his hands up her thighs, across her belly and then up to cup her breast. She arches and thrusts them up to him.

“I know you can take more,” he tells her, pinching her pebbled nipples, the twinge making her muscles clench- reminding her of the invader in her ass. She bites her lip. She can’t imagine being any fuller.

“Are you going to be a good girl and let me fill you completely with my big hard cock?” She can hear his hand rubbing and pumping himself as he waits for her answer.

“Yes, sir. Please, sir? Fill me completely,” she pants.

She braces her feet on the bed, tilting her hips up as he rubs his cock through her folds.

“Fuck. You’re so tight," he moans, as he starts to slide into her warm wet heat. “I can feel your walls sucking me. The hard toy’s rubbing against my cock as I slide into you. Can you feel it?”

“Yes. Oh Fuck, yes.” She almost screams.

“Now I’m going to fuck you with my cock in your pussy and a toy in your ass. I’m going to watch your beautiful breasts bounce as I make you fall apart around me," he pants, as he starts to move within her.

His thrusts are slow and deep to start, each one making the toy bob and bounce in her ass.

He grabs her thighs, tilting her more, increasing the speed of his thrusts. The heat is rising across her chest, she feels like she is on fire. Grabbing the bed behind her head, she thrusts back, meeting each one of his with a push of her own. Pulling him in further, clenching her muscles around the toy and making them both moan in ecstasy.

“Princess! Cum for me.”

As if that was all she had been waiting for- his growled demand sets off white flashes behind her tightly shut eyes. Every muscle in her body clenches and releases as she bows off the bed. She screams out her release, giving her everything out to the stone walls of the cave.

xXx

 

“Clarke. Princess, open your eyes.” Bellamy’s voice invades her cloudy mind. She slowly opens her eyes to find him lying beside her propped up on his arm, his hand caressing her cheek- concern on his face.

“Are you okay? You passed out.”

She’s slow to answer, she feels weak, boneless and so very relaxed. A smile breaks out across her face. “Yes, sir,” she whispers in delight. She honestly cannot remember the last time she’d felt this good.

“No more _Sir_ tonight,” he suggests as he lowers his head to steal a light kiss. “How do you feel?”

“Fantastic. Boneless. Weightless. Relaxed. Happy.” She laughs. “You are a freaking genius.”

“The pleasure was all mine,” he says with a little smirk.

“I sincerely doubt that,” she says,f feeling the aftershocks in her still swollen pussy.

A niggle of concern sparks in her head. She can’t remember much after her scream. She can’t remember his pleasure. “You did too, didn’t you?” She quietly asks, not quite meeting his eyes.

His fingers pull her chin up so she has to look at him, his sincere eyes piercing hers – there is no looking away from him when he looks at you like this. “First, this was all about you. All about you giving into pleasure and seeking the ultimate release. So stop worrying and enjoy all those endorphins running around your body.” She nods okay. His sweet, sexy smirk appears. “Second, that was, without doubt, the best thing I have ever done. I had to hold myself back from exploding from probably the first time my hand print appeared on your ass.” He leans down for another gentle kiss. “You giving in to me. _You_ allowing yourself to submit to me will fuel every fantasy I have from now on.”

She grins up at him- delighted that he’d been just as into it as she had.

He lies down beside her and pulls her into his arms- her head resting on his chest  as she shuts her eyes and relaxes into him. “And yeah,” he says chuckling into her hair, “I came so hard I couldn’t see for a minute. Now sleep. We have a long walk tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” she huffs into his chest. “I just hope my legs work by then.”

“Me too,” he mumbles as they both drift into exhausted slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I live for your comments.
> 
> I'm taking Bellarke Smut prompts.
> 
> This was my first anal fic - how did I do?

**Author's Note:**

> As always I live for your comments.  
> They inspire me and if you want a smutty Bellarke drabble - send me a prompt.
> 
> Every comment gets a reply. I love to chat about my writing and about Bellarke.


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